


You Won't See Me Fall Apart (Elastic Heart)

by joidianne4eva



Series: Not Too Broken To Fix [1]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Discussion of Rape, Drug Use, Hopeful Ending, M/M, Suicidal Thoughts, post 5x12
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-10
Updated: 2015-04-10
Packaged: 2018-03-22 04:56:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3715921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/joidianne4eva/pseuds/joidianne4eva
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I can’t do what? Live my fuckin’ life without Ian? I can’t be fucking happy without that fuckhead, that what you’re saying? Cause I fucked up, I let that fucker make me think he was worth it and he laughed in my face. You think I’m letting him do that shit again then you’re fucked in the head!” he snarled and Mandy took a step back like his anger was a living breathing thing and to Mickey it was. The hole in his chest was filled to the brim and he fucking hated that this was what it took to make him feel something  after all those months. </p>
<p>It always came back to Ian and Mickey was fucking sick of it. </p>
<p>“Just fucking go, alright? Go tell Gallagher that this shit between me and him…it’s over. We ain’t got shit to say to each other. I’m fucking done,” he whispered as he lowered himself onto the sofa.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Won't See Me Fall Apart (Elastic Heart)

**Author's Note:**

> I'm so bitter.

The thing was Mickey was used to not being enough.

He hadn’t been enough to make his Ma stay alive and he hadn’t been enough to make Mandy stay in Southside either but he’d always been enough for Ian. Even when he’d been lying to everyone around them, himself included, he’d been more than enough because Ian was always more than willing to take whatever he offered.

It had been a fucking trap but Mickey hadn’t realized that until it was too late.

He’d gotten comfortable with Ian’s family, had read up on Ian’s disorder because he’d meant what he’d said, he was going to stick it out through thick and thin but even promising Ian that hadn’t been enough, in the end.

The worst thing was that he’d actually thought it’d work. He’d just go over there and tell Ian he loved him and they’d work shit out because that’s what they did, that was who they were except it wasn’t who Ian was anymore and Mickey didn’t know who the fuck he was without Ian.

The alcohol didn’t help him figure that shit out either but while vodka wasn’t the answer it sure as fuck helped him forget the question and Ian.

And forgetting about Ian was Mickey’s main goal because it looked like Ian had already forgotten about him.

He’d swallowed his pride and put himself out there and all he’d gotten was stomped on, so yeah, Ian had definitely forgotten who the fuck he was. A few years ago Mickey wasn’t even willing to kiss the fucker and now he told him he loved him, he took him back when Ian ran off and all he got was insults and a fucking pat on the back before he was chased down like a dog by Ian’s fucked up half-sister or whatever the fuck Sammi was.

The only thing Mickey really knew about her was that the bitch was hard to kill.

But that was fine because Mickey was used to not being enough for anyone and he didn’t need Ian anyway.

He told himself that through the three weeks spent in an alcoholic haze.

He kept telling himself that shit when he went out and got laid by anyone and everyone but it didn’t keep him from checking his phone like a fucking bitch on the off chance that Ian had texted him.

The phone broke on week seven and Mickey stopped finding reasons to walk by the Gallagher house on week nine.

*O*

“You know there’s easier ways to have a good time than drinking yourself into a coma.”

The voice made Mickey narrow his eyes as he lifted his gaze from his drink only to find a redhead smirking at him and any other night Mickey would have probably been down for a fuck but tonight he was just fucking tired. Tired of fucking people who didn’t measure up, only to go home and drink himself into a stupor before starting it all over again.

“The fuck’s it to ya? I’m paying for my drinks aren’t I?” he shot back and the guy spread his hands in supplication before sliding onto the empty barstool.

“I’m just saying, whatever’s on your mind probably isn’t worth it,” he offered up and Mickey snorted.

“Man, you don’t know shit about me.”

The guy was silent for a long moment but Mickey could feel him staring. “Let me guess, bad breakup?”

Instead of answering Mickey took another gulp of his drink but that seemed like enough of an answer for the other man.

“Tried fucking it out of your system?” he queried and Mickey wasn’t sure if it was the booze but he found himself shrugging. “Did it work?” the guy asked and Mickey sneered at him.

“I’m still here, aren’t I?”

“That’s good,” the man laughed, waving Mickey off when he glowered at him. “No, no, hear me out. It means there isn’t something wrong with you because if there was, fucking someone else would get you back on your feet. It means that whoever broke up with you is the idiot here.”

“He’s not…” Mickey muttered because Ian wasn’t an idiot, he was fucking smart. Mickey wasn’t a catch, he’d never been a catch and Ian knew that, it’d just taken him a long fucking time to work up the balls to actually say it to Mickey’s face.

“Bullshit,” the man responded immediately. “Did you fuck around on him? Sleep with his sister? Shoot his boss? No? Then he’s a fucking idiot.”

Mickey swiped a hand across his face, before sliding off his seat. “I’m too tired for your Yoda crap right now,” he groused as he slapped a few bills on the bar.

The redhead just grinned at him like there was something funny that Mickey didn’t get and Mickey rolled his eyes as he left the bar.

It wasn’t until he got home that he realized that he wasn’t drunk and it actually didn’t hurt as badly as he thought it would.

*O*

The next time Mickey saw the redhead he was hanging out at another bar.

“You fucking stalking me or something?” he greeted as the man hopped onto the empty stool beside him.

“Yeah, because my husband would love to hear that,” the man lobbied back, as he flagged down the bartender. “Six years together tomorrow, he’d probably shoot me if he thought I was messing around behind his back.”

Mickey cocked a brow at that and the man just beamed. “What you thought I was out here cruising?”

“If that ain’t why you’re here then what the hell are you doin’?”

“Recruiting,” the guy responded. “My husband and I, we’re opening a centre to help kids like us…like we used to be. Down on our luck and queer in a neighbourhood that means you’re more likely to get your head bashed in than a helping hand.”

Mickey toyed with his drink for a moment because he didn’t know what to say to that shit. Maybe if he’d had somewhere like that…nah, Terry still would’ve had him under his thumb and the bastard would have made it his personal mission to wreck the place.

“That all you’re drinking,” the man queried nodding to Mickey’s drink as the bartender placed two beers in front of him.

Mickey shrugged but didn’t respond.

“Look, you don’t know me and I don’t know you but I know someone who needs some help when I see them,” the guy muttered, sliding a card across the bar to Mickey. “Call me if you’re interested.”

Mickey watched from the corner of his eye as the man collected his drinks and left. He didn’t know why he kept the card when he left the bar but he did.

*O*

“Yo Mick, this yours?” Iggy asked as he dropped down onto the sofa and Mickey glanced up from the cash he was counting. It wasn’t much but he’d been making something at scamming people at poker, mostly dumbass college kids with more money than common sense, if nothing else it kept food on the table and he’d been able to send Svetlana some cash for Yev despite the fact that she claimed they were fine…’cause Mickey knew that they weren’t fucking fine.

Iggy was holding the card Mickey had gotten from the guy at the bar and Mickey frowned at it before grabbing it from Iggy’s hand.

His brother didn’t call him on his bullshit; instead Iggy just grabbed one of the cans of beer lining the table. “Heard Terry’s getting out in a few weeks,” Iggy commented lightly but there was something off in his tone and when Mickey glanced over at him Iggy was watching him, the expression on his face serious for once. “You probably shouldn’t be here when he comes home,” Iggy finished before cracking the can open and taking a long gulp.

Mickey clenched his fingers around the card until it bit into his skin before getting up.

“Got a call to make,” he murmured as he left the room.

For the first time in months Mickey actually had a fucking plan and if he was lucky it’d work…if he wasn’t Terry would probably find him and bash his head in. It wasn’t like he had a lot of options.

Closing the door behind him he leaned against it before pulling his phone out and keyed in the number on the card.

The picture of Ian stared at him as from where he’d dropped it on the floor and Mickey bent down and took it up just as someone answered the phone.

*O*

Mickey liked his job. It gave him a steady pay check which meant he could find somewhere outside of Southside, it also meant he could send Iggy and Svetlana cash on a regular basis. The fact that it kept him away from Terry was good too but that wasn’t the only thing he liked.

He liked helping.

If someone had told him a few years back that he’d be dealing with gay kids who were just as fucked up as he was he’d have laughed in their face but here he was and maybe he wasn’t as good as the other people Rob had hired but Mickey got the message across in a way that meant it’d fucking stick…like right now.

“So what you gonna off yourself after all the shit you’ve been through? You gonna slit your fucking wrists when the rest of us are out here busting our asses for you? That’s what’s up?!” he snarled and the teen in front of him flinched but the kid held his ground.

“What else do you want me to do?” Matthew snapped and Mickey let the question sink in because he knew the bruises on the teen’s skin, knew the haunted look in his eyes because he’d been there…he was still there but he’d be fucked before he let this play out the way Matthew wanted it to.

“I want you to man the fuck up! Just ‘cause you wanna suck dick, don’t make you a fucking bitch! Kill yourself, fucking do it and see who comes out on top. You gonna let them win?” Mickey demanded and he could see several of the other reps watching them but none of them moved and Mickey was grateful for that because none of them knew what it was like growing up in Southside like he and Matthew did it was probably why Rob had assigned the kid to Mickey.

The teen was shaking now but Mickey didn’t move to comfort him because kids like them didn’t know what the fuck to do with comfort.

“You’ve got a chance, kid, fucking stay here; you don’t need to go home. You’ve got an option. You think I had that shit? When I came out my dad tried to fucking kill me in a bar full of people and I’ve got a kid you know, was even married once... to a woman.”

“But you’re gay,” Matthew frowned and Mickey raised his head so that he was staring down his nose at the kid as Matthew’s gaze flickered over his face. “How did you have a kid…?”

“My dad wanted me to be straight,” Mickey cut in, keeping his eyes glued on the teen’s. “You ever had sex while your dad and the guy you used to fuck watched? That’s real shitty. Having to look at the kid every day and not try to hate him? That shit is even worse. You think I don’t know what you’re going through? You’ve got it better than me, kid. You’ve got people here who care. Who the fuck did I have?”

Matthew opened his mouth then snapped it shut like he didn’t know what to say and Mickey put him out of his misery.

“I didn’t have anybody but myself.”

There were tears in Matthew’s eyes now and Mickey eyed the way the kid had wrapped his arms around his own body like he was trying to hug himself.

“H-how did you fix it?”

Mickey shot the teen a tiny smile. “You wanna know my secret, huh?” he asked and Matthew nodded. “I haven’t fixed shit, kid. Every day you see me come in here, that’s me trying and if my ass can do you can too, alright?”

Matthew nodded slowly.

“So you stayin’ then?” Mickey asked.

“I guess so,” the teen whispered and Mickey snorted.

“You’d fucking better, make me have to come to Southside for your ass and I’m kicking it from there to here.”

*O*

“Mandy, where the fuck is my shit?” Mickey snarled as he searched Mandy’s room.

With Terry back in prison on a twenty year charge Mandy had moved into the master bedroom but the bitch still didn’t keep her shit sorted and now Mickey couldn’t find his I.D. card.

“Mandy, I swear to God I’m gonna….” Mickey’s words died as he entered the living room only to find himself face to face with Ian for the first time in seven months.

“Hey,” Ian whispered and Mickey froze for a minute, a part of him screaming to back the fuck up and just leave but instead he found himself nodding at Ian like the bastard hadn’t walked all over his heart and pride.

“S’up,” he muttered, forcing himself to take his eyes of Ian even though he could feel Ian staring at him. “Mandy, I’m fucking late, come the fuck on!”

Mandy grinned at him before reaching down the side of the sofa and tossing his card to him.

“You’re welcome!” she called after him as he hightailed it out of there.

It was easy to pretend the pounding of his heart was because he had only thirty minutes before he’d be late and not because Ian still had the power to throw him completely out of whack.

*O*

“You didn’t have to leave the other day, you know?” Mandy muttered and Mickey shot her a glare, keeping it there until she took her fucking feet of his table.

“I had work, you know that shit that gets me the cash I need to keep all of this together,” Mickey replied, tossing her a bottle of pop.

Mandy was silent for a moment and Mickey let his attention return to the TV.

“Ian wanted to know how you were,” Mandy whispered and the blood in Mickey’s veins turned cold.

“Fucking don’t,” he warned but apparently Mandy wasn’t done.

“He’s back on his meds, Mick and he kept asking about you but I figured you wouldn’t…”

“Shut the fuck up!” Mickey snarled and the vehemence in his voice startled both him _and_ Mandy. “Just _don’t_ , alright?” he whispered and Mandy stared at him for a long moment before she placed her drink on the table and slid closer.

Mickey didn’t move even when she slumped against him, “I’m here for you, alright? Not Ian, just you.”

It was the closest to an ‘I love you’ that Mickey had ever gotten from anyone in their family other than his Ma and he nodded because he didn’t have any words for that.

*O*

Rob cornered him at work and Mickey wasn’t surprised when the man squinted at him like he could figure out what was going on in Mickey’s head without asking.

“You know that shit’s creepy as fuck, right?” Mickey muttered and Rob grinned at him.

“You know we offer counselling free for reps, right?” he shot back and Mickey sighed.

“Do I look like I need counselling?”

Rob’s eyebrow twitched upwards and Mickey flipped him off, ignoring the bark of laughter that he got in return.

“I’m fine, alright?”

“You’re not but I’m going to give you the chance to sort it out because you’re our best rep and also because Sam’s already gunning for you. Make one more rep cry and he’s gonna haul your ass to the counsellor himself before your Grinch impression starts scaring people off…his words not mine.”

“You’re so whipped it’s sad.”

“And I’m loving it,” Rob sang back as he wandered off.

Mickey pursed his lips as he stared down the corridor that led to the counsellors’ rooms before he shook his head and headed in the opposite direction.

*O*

“You happy?” Mandy asked as they curled up together on the sofa and Mickey didn’t know when the hell their relationship had gotten to this point. He remembered when they were younger, how they’d been inseparable but that had been a lifetime ago.

“Fuck being happy. I’m not starving, Terry’s in lock-up and you’re stupid ass is back here. The fuck else should I want?”

“To be happy,” Mandy repeated and Mickey sighed.

“Don’t even know what being happy is anymore but I’m alright here…that’s enough.”

“Okay,” Mandy responded but Mickey wasn’t stupid enough to miss the disbelief in her voice.

*O*

“Yo, Ig, catch,” Mickey muttered, tossing the envelope at Iggy’s head.

He watched out of the corner of his eye as Iggy opened it and he pretended he didn’t notice the way that Iggy’s hands shook as he shoved it into his pocket.

“You know I figured at some point I’d be the one giving you cash,” Iggy murmured lowly and Mickey snorted.

“Remember that time you almost killed me ‘cause you were trying to get me to eat?”

“You mean after Ma?” Iggy asked and Mickey nodded, keeping his eyes on the blank TV.

“Consider that payment for all of that shit,” Mickey sighed as he slumped further on the couch.

Iggy was silent for a while and Mickey was grateful for the reprieve because the touchy-feely shit wasn’t his forte.

“Gallagher came by asking for you the other day,” Iggy told him and Mickey swallowed past the lump in his throat because he really couldn’t deal with Ian’s shit right now. They’d said all that was needed to be said that day and Mickey didn’t get why the fuck Ian wouldn’t just leave it the fuck alone.

“What’d he want?”

Iggy shrugged, “Didn’t get to ask, he left pretty soon after I threatened to deck him for fucking with your head.”

“The fuck you did?!” Mickey hissed rounding on Iggy but his brother just stared him down. Sometimes Mickey forgot that Iggy was actually older than him but right now wasn’t one of those moments.

“He fucked with you and I threatened to fuck him up. That’s how this shit works. Bad enough I didn’t get to do that for Mandy but fuck it, I can still kick Red’s ass if I want,” Iggy responded and Mickey swiped a hand across his face because what the fuck was he going to do, tell Iggy to apologize to Ian when he’d wanted to do the same thing a few times?

“Just…don’t be doing that shit all the time, alright? I can fight my own fucking battles.”

This time Iggy was the one who snorted. “I know that shit, I’m just being progressive, like Juanita said I should.”

“Who the fuck is Juanita?” Mandy demanded as she strolled into the room and Mickey took the chance to grab a drink when Iggy’s attention switched to her.

*O*

“Do you see your kid a lot?” Matthew inquired and Mickey glanced up from the sheets of paper that he’d been squinting at for the last ten minutes because like fuck he was actually going to do paperwork on time.

“Sometimes, ain’t really got the time,” Mickey responded and Matthew frowned at him.

“Do you _want_ to see him?” he asked and Mickey paused, narrowing his eyes at the teen.

“What happened wasn’t his fault,” he replied but Matthew’s frown just deepened into a scowl.

“That’s not what I asked,” he muttered and Mickey crossed his arms as he leaned back in his seat.

“Why the fuck are we playin’ twenty questions, kid?”

Matthew shrugged, “I just wanted to know is all.”

Mickey eyed the kid but when Matthew didn’t seem about to say anything else he shrugged. “You get over it, I don’t touch the kid a lot but I do try to see him ‘cause he’s mine, you know?”

“What about your dad?”

This time Mickey bared his teeth in an unintentional snarl. “Fucker’s in lockup,” he responded immediately and Matthew nodded at him.

“Sounds like you’re getting your shit sorted,” he pointed and Mickey rolled his eyes because the kid was weird as fuck, like a tiny old man stuck in a teenage body.

“Yeah, whatever you say, pipsqueak. You wanna make yourself useful, come help me with this shit,” he grumbled but Matthew just beamed.

“I can’t, I’m just a kid!” he called as he fled and Mickey watched him go.

Matthew wasn’t his only charge but seeing the kid happy made Mickey feel like he was actually making a difference…almost like he was actually worth something.

*O*

Mickey should have known that his luck avoiding Ian was going to run out because he was in Southside more than he was at his own fucking apartment and Ian still lived in Southside and apparently two plus two equalled Mickey staring at Ian who’d turned up while Mickey was waiting for Mandy to get ready.

Ian hesitated in the doorway for a second, his body swaying backwards like he wanted to leave and Mickey fucking wished he would but Ian wouldn’t be Ian if he didn’t take a leap of faith.

Funny thing about leaps of faith was that nobody told how much that shit hurt when you hit the ground.

“Hey, Mickey,” Ian whispered and Mickey clenched his jaw before dropping his eyes back to the graphic novel he’d swiped from Matthew. The kid had scribbled all over the pages and Mickey was gonna have to rib his ass about some of the notes he’d made…the nerd.

“Mandy’s in the bathroom,” he responded finally to break the heavy silence.

The silence between him and Ian had never been like this before but Mickey guessed this was what happened when you were forced to look your mistakes in the eye.

He wasn’t sure which one of them was the fucking mistake but he sure as hell wasn’t going to be looking Ian in the eye.

“I asked her about you…” Ian started and Mickey’s head snapped up.

“Shut up!”

The words came out as a snarl despite his best efforts and Mickey was off to couch before he realized he was moving. “Me and you, we ain’t doing this shit. You fucking said your piece and now it’s done; alright? So just…just shut the fuck up.”

Ian’s eyes were wide and wild when Mickey met them and he found himself flinching away because he wasn’t doing this shit again, he wasn’t going to ask if Ian had been taking his fucking meds or if he was eating right because that shit wasn’t on him anymore. Ian’s disorder and his life was his own fucking business because Mickey had tried to be what Ian needed and he’d gotten left behind like trash while Ian went back to the family that hadn’t given a shit for more than a few minutes when Ian was missing or when he didn’t want to accept that there was something wrong. Mickey had been the one who’d walked the streets to find Ian’s ass and bring him home. He’d been the one who had to remind himself that Ian was fucking sick when he broke his heart over and over again but Mickey was fucking done.

Ian wasn’t his problem, he wasn’t his lover, he wasn’t Mickey’s fucking anything anymore.

Gritting his teeth Mickey shook his head because this shit wasn’t worth it. He’d fucking text Mandy but there was no way in hell that he was staying here now.

He’d almost made it past Ian when the man grabbed his wrist and Mickey jerked to the side like the touch had burned him and that was the moment when Mandy chose to leave the bathroom.

She stared at the two of them but before she could say anything, Mickey was out the door.

*O*

“Seriously?”

Even through the daze of alcohol Mickey recognized Rob’s annoying ass voice and when he squinted he could just about make out the man’s hair that was the same shade as Ian’s and just fucking thinking that had him reaching for his drink again only to find that it was gone.

“Mickey, kiddo, I love you like my own child but I’m about to plant my boot so far up your fucking ass,” Sam grumbled as he tugged on Mickey’s arm and Mickey tensed up before remembering that this was Sam, the same Sam who’d let Mickey sleep in his house when Rob had found out that he’d been sleeping rough for the first few days of his job. The same Sam who’d ripped one of their reps another asshole when the fucker had thought it was funny to mock the way that Mickey talked. Sam wasn’t like Terry just like Rob wasn’t like Terry and that was the only reason why Mickey let them steer him out of the bar.

“Fuckin’ right,” Mickey slurred as he slumped in the back seat and he could just about make out Rob staring at him.

“Right about what?” The man asked and Mickey knuckled at his eyes to keep the burn of tears at bay.

“He’s a fuckin’ idiot,” he whispered.

*O*

Mickey’s head felt like he’d gone toe to toe with a fucking baseball bat when he woke up and Rob’s smirking face inches away from his didn’t make that shit any better.

“Your phone’s been ringing since you got here last night. So far you’ve got forty-two missed calls and seventeen messages but let’s not talk about that…” Rob started and Mickey glowered at him but the man just beamed. “Instead let’s talk about the fact that you’re really chatty when you’re drunk and let’s talk about Ian.”

“Fuck no,” Mickey hissed because there was no way in hell that he was talking about Ian with anyone.

“You can’t keep running from this, Mickey,” Rob called as Mickey grabbed his phone and his jacket before heading for where he knew his shoes would be.

“Yeah? Just fucking watch me!”

*O*

Mickey wasn’t surprised to find Mandy waiting outside his apartment building because apparently they did this shit now. They worried about each other and checked up on each other because there wasn’t anyone to call them weak for it.

“Where the fuck have you been? I’ve been standing out here for two fucking hours!” Mandy snarled and Mickey snorted as he elbowed by her to key in the code.

“I was out, that shit illegal now?” he asked as he headed for the elevator with Mandy on his heels.

“I was fucking worried especially after you tore out of there like a bat out of hell.”

“I needed to go somewhere, alright?” Mickey muttered as he opened the door and let Mandy in.

Mandy stared at him and Mickey met her gaze evenly. “Ian said he’s sorry.”

“Ian can go fuck himself,” Mickey snapped as he stomped by her.

“You can’t keep pretending he doesn’t exist, that’s not how this works!”

Mickey rounded on her because he was fucking sick and tired of people telling him what he could and couldn’t do.

“I can’t do what? Live my fuckin’ life without Ian? I can’t be fucking happy without that fuckhead, that what you’re saying? Cause I fucked up, I let that fucker make me think he was worth it and he laughed in my face. You think I’m letting him do that shit again then you’re fucked in the head!” he snarled and Mandy took a step back like his anger was a living breathing thing and to Mickey it was. The hole in his chest was filled to the brim and he fucking hated that this was what it took to make him feel _something_ after all those months.

It always came back to Ian and Mickey was fucking sick of it.

“Just fucking go, alright? Go tell Gallagher that this shit between me and him…it’s over. We ain’t got shit to say to each other. I’m fucking done,” he whispered as he lowered himself onto the sofa.

Mandy didn’t say another word but a few minutes later the door closed and Mickey pressed his palms to his eyes as he sat in the silence.

His phone buzzed in his pocket and Mickey took it out.

The screen flashed for a moment and when Mickey swiped it to unlock it there was one message scrolling slowly across the top.

**_Can we talk?_ **

He didn’t have to guess who it was from and Mickey’s finger hesitated over the words before he swiped right and sent the message flying off the screen.

*O*

It was almost midnight when Mickey picked up his phone again and this time he didn’t think before he selected the unknown number.

It rang twice before someone answered and Ian’s voice had Mickey’s heart clenching in his chest but he needed to do this, he couldn’t let Ian hang over him for the rest of his life.

“Thought you said all you wanted to say?” he asked and there was a beat of silence.

“I’m sorry,” Ian whispered and Mickey gritted his teeth because he didn’t want to hear that Ian was fucking sorry. He wanted to know why he hadn’t been enough for Ian. He wanted to know why the fuck, after all they’d been through, Ian had just turned his back on him when Mickey’s life had been in danger?

Most of all, he wanted closure.

“There isn’t a fucking thing I can say that’ll make you believe me but I swear to God, Mickey, I’m fucking sorry. I don’t want to be who I was when I’m not on my meds, I don’t want to wake up and know that I’ve ruined the best thing that ever happened to me because I did. I ruined it but I…I just want to talk to you. I don’t deserve anything another chance though I probably deserved the black eye from Mandy…”

“Mandy clocked you?” Mickey asked and if his voice trembled neither of them mentioned it.

“I deserved it,” Ian whispered and Mickey wanted to disagree but he couldn’t. Instead he stared at the ceiling and waited for Ian to say something because he’d said all he was willing to months ago.

“I just…can we talk sometime?” Ian asked finally and Mickey exhaled slowly.

“I’ve been fucking other people.”

There was a silence on the other end of the line that felt heavy as fuck like Mickey could all but taste Ian’s shock.

“After you said all that shit and after Sammi almost shot my ass, I figured, why not?” Mickey continued and the sound that Ian made had Mickey clenching the fingers of his free hand into a fist. “I got drunk, I snorted coke, fucked people in back alleys and wherever the fuck I could cause it didn’t matter, right?”

“Mickey…” Ian whispered but Mickey wasn’t done and this time Ian was going to fucking listen.

“You think I hit rock bottom before I married Svetlana? Well that shit was a walk in the park compared to this. That’s what you fucking did to me when you tossed me out like trash after all the shit I did for you…” he breathed, closing his eyes. “And then I sorted my shit out. Me. No fucking help from anyone but some strangers who figured I wasn’t trash…”

“You’re not,” Ian choked out but Mickey kept going.

“I got back on my feet without you and now you want me to risk that shit because you want to _talk_?”

“Please, I’m fucking begging you, Mickey, just give me another chance, please!”

“Another chance for you to fuck me up?” Mickey shot back and Ian was sobbing now and Mickey didn’t know how the fuck to deal with this because Ian was the strong one, no matter how he’d fronted about it. Ian was the one who’d been able to walk away and not just once either. Ian was the one who could live without Mickey but now Ian sounded like the thought of living without Mickey was more than he could stomach and Mickey didn’t know what the fuck to do.

“You can’t keep doing this shit to me, Ian. You can’t push me away and expect me to fucking wait on you. This ain’t a fairytale, this is life!”

“I’m sorry,” Ian whispered again and it felt like it should be enough but it wasn’t.

“Look…” Mickey started but Ian beat him to it.

“I love you.”

Three fucking words and Mickey’s entire world was unravelling.

“I fucking love you, Mickey. I never stopped. I wanted you to leave because I thought you wanted that. I didn’t, I didn’t want to lose you but I did and it was fucking stupid because it was my fault and I don’t deserve you back but please can we just…just talk to me. That’s all I’m asking, _please_.”

Mickey opened his eyes and blinked past the spots dancing in his vision.

“Just talk nothing more,” he responded and even though it felt like he was talking a step back it also felt like a step forward.


End file.
